


My First And Last Mistake

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Anal Fingering, Bullying, Denial, Feelings, Happy Ending, Insults, M/M, Miscommunication, Podfic Welcome, Verbal Abuse, britishism, the word arse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 16:54:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6123175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First they were enemies, then they were acquaintances. After that, they were Frenemies, until they were friends. But what about something more?</p>
<p>A Stackson fic about the changing relationship between Stiles & Jackson. From bitter enemies, to intimate friends.<br/>This was /supposed/ to be a porn-y prompt fill for Ylith, but instead turned into an emotional roller coaster. I think I managed to get some decent porn in the end though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My First And Last Mistake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ylith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ylith/gifts).



> See end for original prompt & spoiler/warnings.  
> This fic is un-beta-ed.
> 
> Ylilith - I hope you liikkkeeeee it. (:

 

  
  


**First they were enemies.**

 

“What the FUCK Jackson.” Stiles called, as the larger boy shoulder barged him into a locker.

 

“Fuck off nerd.” 

 

“You need to get over yourself, you…. Self obsessed bimbo.” Stiles eyes owled in response to the jock pausing, and turning around to face him. 

 

He was suddenly very aware that he’d been walking down the hallway very much alone when this happened, and that Jackson was with a group of like minded meat heads.

 

“What the fuck did you say nerd?” The back of Stiles’ head quickly made acquaintance with a locker door, as Jackson slammed him back into it.

 

“I-I said that-” Stiles normally had a lot of guts when brawling with Jackson, as for the most part the boy was all mouth and no bite. But Jackson’s friends were known bullies, and Stiles had returned home with a lot of bruises when he stepped too far.

 

“Hey Jack -” said one of said meatheads, “wanna’ hold his hands back, while I punch him in the nuts until he vomits?” 

 

Stiles eyes quickly darted to Jackson’s. They were still standing really close, close enough that Stiles could see the whites of Jackson’s teeth beneath the boy’s snarl of disgust. The moment was slightly frozen; Stiles knowing that Jackson’s next move would seal his fate for the evening. Sharing one’s breath with one’s attacker is never the most enjoyable experience.

 

A moment later Jackson slammed his fist into the locker next to Stiles head, causing the boy to jump.

 

“Hah - let’s just leave this chicken shit.” Jackson bit out, ignoring the fact that Stiles’ flinch had caused them to touch in multiple places. “I’ll get you another time.” Before the teen lept away, dragging his co-aggressors with him.

 

Stiles hated Jackson.

 

* * *

 

 

**Then They Were Acquaintances.**

 

“Stilinksi, get the fuck out this changing room.” 

 

“Look, I have full right to try out for lacrosse.”

 

“Why the fuck are you even talking to me, just get out.”

 

“Jackson, you don’t actually run this school. You can put your princess crown away, and let me get ready.” 

 

Jackson particularly didn’t like the way that Stiles’ lip was quirked in amusement when he said that. The fact that the scrawny kid that used to be nothing more than a bottom feeder at their school, now actually knew his friends and dared to try out for his team, was already an insult. It didn’t help he was mouthy as fuck either. 

 

Jackson, admittedly not as quick as the boy when it came to rebuttals, just clenched his fist in anger.

 

“Hey-hey! Look, Stiles is alright.” Interceded Scott. “He’s just messing with you, we’re all friends here.”

 

“He’s not my friend.” Said both Jackson and Stiles at the same time. 

 

McCall over exaggerated rolling his eyes, and Jackson reminded himself that he never liked McCall much either. And that it was never  _ his  _ choice to bring the boy into his elite social circle. Especially seeing that inevitably lead to others thinking they could come too.

 

“Yeah, alright, but, just.. Chill.” Said the boy.

 

Jackson huffed and went back to his own locker, catching Danny’s eye on the way. His best friend was smirking at him. “You’re wasting your time degrading him.” The boy said.

 

“I know, he’s a waste of fucking breath.”

 

Danny rolled his eyes at him, which was ok, because Danny was Jackson’s best friend (one that had proven far better for him than his old ones) so he was allowed to roll his eyes at Jackson.

 

“I mean that he’s here now. Just, pretend he doesn’t exist, like you do all the other people you don’t like.”

 

Jackson wasn’t sure how to explain to Danny that Stiles had always gotten under his skin in a way that just wouldn’t let Jackson just ignore him. Something about the jumped up little shit just  _ got  _ to him. 

 

He glanced at his best friend, who was staring at him critically… Danny tended to be pretty good at understanding him, so hopefully he wouldn’t need to explain.

* * *

 

**After that, they were Frenemies.**

 

“You call that a goal? I call it a fluke.”

 

“At least my ‘flukes’ go in, whenever you finally get the ball, you’re lucky if you don’t drop it.”

 

“I bet in a dead heat, one-to-one, I would beat you.”

 

“What are you even talking about, you do this every time Stilinski, and I beat you. It’s not even worth the effort.”

 

“You scared Jackson? Scared of this fleek athlete.”

 

“Don’t use words like that. You ruin them.”

 

“Why, are you the only fleek guy on the team? With your Abercrombie track pants.”

 

“Hey, I can rep them - no need to get jealous just because you look like a molerat in sports wear.”

 

“I look refined! I look  _ committed.  _ Look at those calves, I could model those shorts.”

 

“What are you guys doing?”

 

The two teens looked up from the laptop they were squabbling over. Danny was at the doorway of Scott’s bedroom, looking put upon. 

 

“Re-watching some of the tapes of lacrosse practice.” Stiles answered with a grin, elbowing Jackson in the ribs when the boy tried to close the laptop, but it was without bite.

 

Danny sighed at them. “I thought we banned you two from doing that.”

 

“Just because Stilinski loses every bet he makes with me.” 

 

Stiles stuck his tongue out at the older boy. “You didn’t have to make the forfeit so rough though, I caught a cold walking home in my underwear.”

 

Danny sighed even louder from the doorway.

 

“Not my fault you suck at lacrosse.”

 

“Jackson, I swear to fucking Cthulu, I am  _ better  _ at scoring than you are now.”

 

“Yeah? How come my goal record is so much higher than you this term then?”

 

“Because you’re a sycophantic ball hog! And never let anyone else get  _ close  _ with the ball.”

 

“You wanna’ bet?”

 

“Yeah I wanna’ bet!”

“Ok, fine we’ll bet. But don’t go whining when you’re stripping down on the field again.”

 

“I won’t need to, as YOU’LL be the one finally living out your dream of being an abercrombie model.”

 

“Tch - please. I could do that whenever I wanted. Just like beating you.”

 

Stiles barely registered Danny leaving the room.

* * *

  
  


**Until They Were Friends.**

 

Jackson stood in the corner of the party scowling into his red cup of weak beer. 

 

College parties were supposed to be awesome. Actually, they were awesome. Jackson was in his element. He was a member of one of the best frats on campus, a load of his closest friends had come up to college with him, and he was already establishing himself as one of the elite crowd. Everything about his personality that he had built himself on throughout his life, had fallen into place again since he started college.

 

...And then Stiles had to start flirting with Derek.

 

Like, ok, so, Stiles wasn’t the fuck up Jackson had always thought he was. In fact, since graduation they’d been pretty close. 

 

That had been a surprise. When Jackson had mentioned he wanted a film night, and Stiles said he’d come along, and then 5 hours later, it was just the two of them eating pizza, sharing fan theories and bickering about tastes in film. 

 

A small smile flitted onto Jackson’s face when he thought about just how many times from then they’d fallen asleep sprawled on the giant leather sofa in Jackson’s den back at his parents’ house. 

 

“Great, finally, a smile off you. I thought you were going to begin cursing people, since you’ve looked so grim tonight.” Danny interrupted. 

 

“I don’t look grim.” Jackson snapped back, his eyes flicking to where Stiles was gripping Derek’s arm as the boy laughed. Causing Jackson to scowl deeper.

 

“See! This is what I mean, you’ve been in an awful mood all week.”

 

Jackson turned to look at his best friend, aware that he should probably at least try and abate Danny’s fears.

 

“Look it’s nothing-”

 

“-It’s not nothing. I know you Jax, I’ve known you when your idea of fun was making other people cry-”

 

“-That’s still fun-”

 

“-So, you hating the world and everyone in it isn’t a new thing.. This though… It’s got something to do with Stiles hanging out at the frat, doesn’t it?”

 

Jackson’s inside lurched uncomfortably at Danny’s words.

 

“I mean-” The urge to just shut down the conversation was tangible, but, Jackson knew…. This was Danny, he should at least try and make him feel clued in. “-he’s just really cramping my style.”

 

Danny, known for his sardonic expressions at the best of times, wrinkled his nose in taste. “Cramping your style?” 

 

“Yeah, like. What is he even doing here. These aren’t his people, he hates the greek system.”

 

Danny didn’t say anything for a minute, which caused Jackson to sweat a little under the silence. “You… We did ask him to come check it out though.”

 

“Yeah, and one minute he’s mouthing off about everything, the building, the socials, the people… The next he’s..” Jackson makes an abortive gesture to where he last saw Stiles standing.

 

“...Yes. He does seem to be suddenly getting on very well with some people.”

 

“Exactly! It’s fucking bull shit.” Jackson feels vindicated in his opinions now that Danny’s confirmed them. He doesn’t quite get the pinched look on his best friends face though.

 

“You think he’s being a dick head, right?” Jackson asks.

 

“I definitely think he’s being a dick head.”

 

“I might go over there and tell him.”

 

“Oh… Oh no Jax, don’t.”

 

“Why? He’s still the little shit we knew through high school, I can still put him in his place.”

 

Jackson was aware that he was almost pleading with Danny. 

 

“Don’t do it to yourself.” Danny answered him.

Something in Danny’s words make Jackson feel a bit cold inside. Like there was another conversation happening right now that he didn’t want to think about. His eyes, almost without his permission, slid to where he last Stiles, and the sight he saw was Derek sliding an arm around Stiles’ waist.

 

“I’m going.”

 

“You’re going over there? Jax!” But Danny was already behind him as Jackson was storming towards the pair.

 

He was fucking furious, how dare Stiles come to this party and…. And act like  _ that  _ with  _ his  _ new friends. And, who the fuck with this guy Derek anyway. Didn’t he know better than to make friends with shit heads like Stiles Stilinksi. It brought the entire tone of the whole party down. Jackson was in the mood to give the guy a right hook just to teach him a lesson. Yeah, actually, punching the Hale boy in the mouth sounded like the perfect solution.

 

When Jackson got close enough to them that he was already curling his hand into a fist, however, Stiles turned him. The younger boy’s face a mixture of happiness and concern when he looked at Jackson.

 

Jackson hated that expression. 

 

He hated Stiles Stilinski in that moment. 

 

He shoulder barged past the boy, and left the party.

* * *

  
  


**But What About Something More?**

 

“Jackson! I know you’re in there! Open up!”

 

Stiles’ hand hurt from rapping on the door. His head was almost completely sober now (not that he was ever really that drunk earlier, just tipsy enough to make making friends a little easier) but it had taken almost an hour of cajoling Danny into admitting which room was Jackson’s.

 

Danny was normally the reasonable one out of that friendship, coming in with communication and reason when Stiles and Jackson had taken their bickering one set too far and begun a full blown argument. The fact that Danny had been staring at him like he was vermin was just… Bizarre.

 

“Fine, if he punches you in the mouth. You deserve, alright?” Danny has lectured, his expression still mutinous, “his room is on the third floor, at the end of the hall on the right.” 

 

So there Stiles was. Slamming his hand on the door, trying to get his friend to respond.

 

“What’s going on? Open up you arsehole! What the fuck is up with you? Were you low on your fuckhead behaviour quota this month, and suddenly realised you’d need to - AH - great  _ now  _ you open it…. Hi Jackson, what’s up?”

 

“Get out of my house Stilinski.”

 

“What the fuck is with the second names? This isn’t high school - you can call my Stiles.”

 

“I don’t give a shit  _ Stiles _ , get out of my fucking face.”

 

“This is what I’m talking about! What’s going on with you! You’ve been weird all night!”

 

“I’M being weird?! You’re the one acting like a fucking freak.”

 

Stiles eyes literally bugged at that. “What are you talking about?”

  
  
  


Suddenly behind them, too people stumbled into the hallway and began making out. Jackson vaguely knew one of them as Isaac - one of his frat mates - although he couldn’t tell who his companion was, as their faces were so glued together it was difficult to make out. Within seconds, they were dry humping against the wall, Isaac’s hands disappearing down the front of the other boy’s trousers. Apparently oblivious to any audience they may - and did - have at that time. 

 

Jackson quickly looked at Stiles, who was staring at the couple dumbfounded, before meeting Jackson’s gaze.

 

“Dude  -” the boy ghost whispered “-I think they’re gonna’ start fucking right there.”

 

“Ughed!” Jackson growled, grabbing Stiles’ arm, and dragging him into the room for some privacy.

 

He shut the door, and hit on the lamp switch, bathing the room in soft yellow light since he’d been sitting (not sulking) in the dark since he came up there. Jackson couldn’t help but watch avidly as Stiles looked around with curiosity at the room. The boy hadn’t seen it yet, and there were many new things that hadn’t been in Jackson’s old room… As well as a handful of items that held a lot of weight to them.

 

“You brought our old jerseys.”

 

Jackson looked up at the wall, pinned there was four shirts: McCall, Stilinksi, Whittemore, Mahealani. 

 

The larger boy found it difficult to meet Stiles’ stare - one that was filled in that moment with pleasure and warmth - instead bouncing away and pacing by his desk. “Yeah, whatever, my mom packed them, and I thought it’d make the place look less bare.”

 

Stiles nodded at him, and appeared to be at a loss for words. 

 

Which was just fucking brilliant - thought Jackson - seeing how it was Stiles who had barged in here.

 

“What do you want Stiles?” Jackson finally ground out. A heavy levy of tiredness in his voice.

 

“What’s going on with you tonight Jax?”

 

“Nothing. I told you. I’m fine.”

 

“You barely spoke to me.”

 

“So what, I often don’t bother speaking to you…”

 

Stiles looked like he was about to rebut that, but instead sighed and took a different angle. “Well… I thought tonight you’d speak to me, seeing how you invited me and all.”

 

“Yeah, well, I thought I was inviting the decent version of you. Not the piece of annoying shit from high school.”

 

Stiles’ eyebrows instantly flew up to his hairline.

 

“What is WRONG with you?!”

 

“Nothing. I just didn’t think you were decent enough company tonight.”

 

“‘Decent enough’ - where are you getting this shit?”

 

“Look, will you just get out Stiles.”

 

“No. No, I’m staying here. I’m staying here until you tell me what is wrong.”

 

“I think you just need to face the fact that I don’t think you’re worth the energy.”

 

“I think you need to face the fact that you’re…. You’re a dick face!!” 

 

They were literally screaming at each other, the last few words so loud, that they were now both panting in anger. The room reverberated with the sound of their last words, only interrupted by the faint groans of the couple going at it from outside.

 

Jackson’s inside felt hot with anger, and he couldn’t even identify why. He watched as the younger boy looked up at the jersey’s again, and then suddenly realised that Stiles had began crying.

 

“College has changed you.”

 

“No it hasn’t… I’ve always been like this.”

 

“...Maybe you’re right..” Jackson suddenly started feeling scared that Stiles was about to leave. “...But you’re not this person to me… Not anymore.”

 

Jackson didn’t have an answer. So many angry bitter thoughts were running around his head, but he was terrified of letting them out, lest Stiles leave.

 

“You’ve got nothing to say then?”

 

“No.” Ground out Jackson.

 

“Really? ... Because… Because I need you to say something… I need you… I need you to actually tell me we’re friends. Otherwise, I can’t do this anymore.”

 

“Can’t do what?”

 

“I can’t.. I can’t be friends with someone who prefers to live in a reality where he hates me.”

 

“That’s not what I do.”

 

“It is… You..” It was like being stabbed, seeing ugly big tears run down Stiles’ face, “..You’ve always hated the idea of even  _ knowing  _ me… You’ve always dressed up every interaction as if you were… You were  _ forced  _ to do it… I thought I could do it. But, I can’t. I can’t start this chapter of my life with you chewing me up and spitting me out whenever you want to.”

 

Jackson stood corrected. If Stiles’ tears were like being stabbed, his words were like being run over by a four tonne lorry.

 

“You’re going?”

 

“Yeah Jax… Yeah, I’m going.”

 

Jackson held his breath.

 

He let Stiles get a far as the door.

 

The boy’s hand already touching the handle, when he said, “wait.”

 

“Jackson, I’m not-”

 

“No, really… Wait. You’re right. I don’t think we are friends.”

 

“That’s a pretty shitty thing for me to stay here and wait around to hear.”

 

“No, wait.” Jackson pealed the slighter boy away from the door. Turning him around so he could crowd against Stiles. With hands that had always been Jackson’s weapon of choice, he gently smudged away the tears of Stiles’ face.

 

“I… Tonight… I…” This was it, Jackson thought, this was the day he simultaneously admits that Stiles is his friend, and loses him in one fail swoop. “I couldn’t bear to watch him put his hands over you.”

 

“Who… Derek?”

 

“Yes.” 

 

“But.. Why?”

 

“I told Danny it was because you weren’t good enough for this frat.”

 

“You’re such a fucking arsehole.”

 

“I know. Look, no, stay, I’m trying to tell you something here. Look. I  _ told  _ Danny that, but… but what I really meant: what I really thought was. I couldn’t bear to watch someone touch you, the way… The way I want to touch you.”

 

Jackson knew he would never forget the moments after saying those words. 

 

Never before had a moment been so filled with promise and fear, that he simultaneously felt elated and devastated that it had finally come to pass.

 

The moment got worse the longer Stiles didn’t say anything though. 

 

So long, that Jackson started to realise that he would have to throw the boy out the room after all. Just so he could compartmentalise the rejection.

 

“Stiles…?” Jackson finally prompted.

 

“Shhh… I’m just…” Stiles was breathing so close to him, he could feel their breath mingle between them. Every breath in, Jackson greedily snatched up Stiles’ exhale. The act felt familiar… It felt like he was finally admitting to himself all those times he had put his body close to Stiles’ had meant something.

 

...He was suddenly aware that from the very beginning, he had already ruined his chance with Stiles.

 

“I’m sorry.” Jackson whispered.

 

“No… No don’t say that.”

 

“Why?” 

 

“Because.. Because I’ve wanted you to say that to me for so long.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“Don’t-”

 

“I’m so sor-” Stiles finally cut him off by kissing him.

 

It was the barest glance of a thing. And Stiles darted back again, quickly glancing up to meet Jackson’s eyes, as if scared that Jackson was going to punish him for it. 

 

The awfulness of it urges Jackson to clasp Stiles jaw and engage into a deeper, more sincere kiss.

 

It feels amazing. All soft lips, and deep moans. Within seconds Jackson is able to slide his tongue in; to lick into the heat of Stiles’ mouth, and paint all the words he should have said a hundred times before. 

 

When he finally lets them break apart, he doesn’t straight away open his eyes. As if even that will let the moment continue.

 

“I wish I could crack open your head and hear what you’re thinking.” Whispers Stiles.

 

Jackson instantly cracks a small grin, murmuring, “that’s not the first time you’ve threatened to bash my skull in.”

 

“True. This time though, it’s because I’m scared to tell you how much I want you. Scared because I don’t know if I trust you to really be feeling this.”

 

Jackson nods, finally opening his eyes to take Stiles in.

 

The boy is beautiful. It feels so good to even acknowledge that in his head, he wants to say it out loud.

 

“You’re beautiful.”

 

“Oh fuck.”

 

“No, you’re… You’re beautiful, to me. I just. I just want to touch you. To keep you as close to my body as possible, so everything that you are can be consumed by me.”

 

“Where… Where the fuck have you been hiding all these words all our lives.”

 

“Behind fists and insults.”

 

“I don’t know what to say. I only have practice in you attacking me.”

 

“Let me have you. Let me make you feel good.”

 

“Now?”

 

“Yeah, let me… I want to fuck you. But, I don’t want to use those words. I want to..”

 

“Yes, yes ok. Jackson you can.”

 

Jackson kisses Stiles again. This time the kiss is more frantic, Jackson pushing all the passion and fear that had been flooding through him since he first saw Derek put his arms around the boy.

 

Jackson has had a lot of sex, mostly with girls, but enough with boys that he knows the road map here. He knows how to bring Stiles’ to the bed. To press his lips into the soft ligaments of the boy below him, as he slowly removes the clothes between them. 

 

He doesn’t want to ask Stiles if he’s ever really fucked - or been fucked - by a man before, but he knows that the unanswered question would make so much of what they do more or less dangerous for them.

 

When he finally can touch the boy’s hardened cock - earning a bountiful jolt of pleasure from his bed mate - he pushes himself to confront the situation.

 

“I’m not.. I don’t need be inside you. Just, just relax, I’ll keep this slow. Ok?”

 

“Yes, oh fuck, yes, Jax.”

 

“Your cock is so pretty in my hand. I could sit here stroking it all night. Would you like that?”

 

“Please, please just, just a little faster.”

 

“No-no, slow, let’s keep it slow.”

 

Jackson sheds his own clothes, snatching some lubricant from a nearby drawer, and then bringing their erections together so he rub them out in tandem. 

 

Stiles glances down at the sight, his eyes repeatedly closing in pleasure, but the boy appeared determine to at least keep track of the sights before him.

 

Jackson just wants to cherish him. He kept his jerking of them slow and timed, his free hand ghosting up Stiles ribs. Dipping into the boy’s collar bones, before framing the boy’s jaw.

 

“You’re so good for me.”

 

“Stop Jackson, stop.”

 

“Why? I want to tell you how much I want you here.”

 

“Because… Because I’m scared you’re not being honest.”

 

“I know, I know you do. That’s why I need to tell you.” Jackson speeds up his movements slightly, letting his fingers repeatedly catch over over the sensitive ridge of Stiles’ head, his thumb swiping up to stimulate the weeping slit of Stiles’ cock. 

 

“Ah, ah, that feels so good.”

 

“I know, let me make you feel good. Show you how much I want you here.”

 

Jackson backed away enough that he dropped his own prick, grabbing the lubricant and slicking two of his fingers, before gently sliding them down Stiles’ balls.

 

“Have you done this before?” Jackson asks, his fingers now finding their way down to that concealed warmth.

 

“Oh, oh, yes.”

 

“With someone else?”

 

“Kinda.. Kinda not..”

 

“With yourself?”

 

“Yes, oh fuck, yes.” 

 

“Ok, I’ll keep going slow.” Jackson murmurs, his fingers just rubbing against Stiles entrance, playing with the sensitive skin.

 

“No, no. Faster, more please, I’m close.”

 

“Let me give this to you.”

 

“No! Give me it. Jaxxx, Jax  _ please. _ ”

 

“Ok, ok.” 

 

Jackson pushes one of the slick fingers inside that warmth.

 

Stiles just opens to him, swallowing up his digit. It looks glorious, the rest of his hand just cupping the bubble cheeks of Stiles arse, his other fist jerking steadily Stiles’ prick. The pretty pink tip appearing through the top, every time he moves it down.

 

“Please, please, please.” That’s where Stiles’ vocabulary ends, now that Jackson has an opposing rhythm of his finger going in, and his fist going down. 

 

“You can do it baby, you how good you are.”

 

“Please, Jax, Jax, Jax.” 

 

“That’s it. Cum for me baby. I’m so proud of you, you’re so good for me. So beautiful. So warm. So-” he crooks his finger, unsure if he’d find what he’d looking for with such a short limb to work with, but to his delight, elicits a high keening out of Stiles: followed by Stiles’ body clamping down on his finger to ensure it doesn’t move away from the area of stimulation, while being rewarded with ropes of white creamy cum bursting from Stiles’ cock.

 

“JAX! JAX-Jax-Jax-ahh.. Ahhhh.. Ohhh..”

 

“That’s it. Take everything you need baby. Everything you need to feel good. Look at the lovely glut of cum you gave me. That’s it, you can keep going.” He says, still steadily jerking through the orgasm, and then pushing against that bundle of nerves, which causes the slighter boy to gasp, and then emit another sudden rope of cum, before utterly collapsing.

 

Jackson slowly removes his finger from the boy, gentle and cautious so not to cause any displeasure. He lets go of the boy’s prick as well, retrieving much of the cum that was shared between them, and slathering his own cock with it. Then he kisses Stiles again deeply.

 

“Mmmmh, Jackson.” Stiles responds slightly dreamily. “Do you want me to?”

 

“No, let me.” Jackson jerks himself, although painfully hard, he takes a while to cum, but he doesn’t mind. He just watches Stiles snooze through his afterglow. The boy’s skin an attractive pink, his boy still splayed open and relaxed from Jackson’s ministrations. Ten or so minutes later, Stiles cracks an eye open and looks down at the large red cock being rub out just above his belly button.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“No, just, just let me kiss you.”

 

“Yes, of course. Yes.”

 

Jackson devours the boy. Within moments, penetrating the soft walls, licking deeply, dominating the mouth that was open to him. Stiles moans gently, although mostly let himself be open to Jackson’s plundering. It works, as minutes later, Jackson is panting hotly into that mouth, his hips thrusting abortively, causing the head of his prick to smear Stiles’ already sodden torso with pre-cum.

 

“I’m gonna’ cum all over you. Paint you with me. Make you mine, show… Show you. Show you you’re mine. FUCK, fuck, fuck,  _ fuck.  _ Yes, yes, yes…. Fuck, yes.”

 

Jackson slams his eyes shut in pleasure, wringing the last of his cum out, smearing it purposefully onto the rosey skin beneath him. For long strained minutes he stays there, caught in the sensation of cumming, or marking, and having all at once. Until finally, exhaustion has him collapse next to the boy. 

 

Within seconds they were both asleep.

* * *

  
  


**Epilogue: Five Years Later.**

 

“Babe, you’ve GOT to be kidding me,  _ another  _ late night?”

 

“Look I know I’ve been at the office a lot.”

 

“A lot? Try every fucking night this week.”

 

“I know, but, being a junior lawyer means making sacrifices.”

 

“Can’t you just… Call your dad, make him make some calls for you.”

 

There’s a silence on the other end of the line, and Stiles instantly regrets saying those words.

 

“Look… I didn’t mean that Jax.”

 

“Yes you did.”

 

“No, I didn’t. I know you hate the idea of using that.”

 

“Actually, I remember last time we argued about this, and you called me a pig headed idiot for not taking advantage of the connections I had.”

 

“Do you have to remember every fight we have?!”

 

“Of course, why would you say something if you didn’t mean it.”

 

“UGHED. No, because what I meant this time, Jax, is that I miss you. And I hate not being able to see you.”

 

“Oh, well, that’s ok then.”

 

“No it’s not, because it’s our anniversary night.”

 

“Of us having sex.”

 

“No… Of you.. You’know,  _ talking  _ to me. And… I wanted to see you.”

 

“That’s ok then.”

 

“Not it’s not!”

 

“It really is.”

 

“Why aren’t you listening to me?”

 

“Because you take fucking ages to walk up stairs.”

 

“How can you tell I’m walking up stairs.”

 

The line goes dead. Stiles stares at his phone is disbelief - Jackson  _ never  _ hangs up the phone. And that wasn’t even a particularly bad argument. 

 

Moments later though, he hears angry stomping down the stairs, and suddenly there’s a Jackson in front of him.

 

“Oh, hello.” Stiles says, a little lamely. Part of him irrationally worried, that he made Jackson so angry that his boyfriend  _ apparated  _ into their apartment to be able to fight with him.

 

“I wanted to do that cliche thing where I tell you I can’t be there… But really I am.”

 

“Oh… That’s. That’s really nice Jackson.”

 

“No, no it isn’t. As we just had a shitty fight on our anniversary.”

 

“Well, the anniversary of when we first had sex.”

 

“No, the anniversary of when I admitted to myself that I am in love with you.”

 

“Oh.. That’s lovely.”

 

“It’s not. I tried not telling you things, and it backfired. I’m… I’m going back to the: always telling you what I’m thinking, thing.”

 

“Yeah, but babe. Some surprises are good surprises.”

 

“I don’t need surprises. I just need you. Everyday. Having you.”

 

“Oh, ok then.” 

 

**FIN**

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Please kudos/comment. It's nice to know that my things have been read. (:
> 
> [Spoiler/Warnings:]  
> Verbal abuse, some serious some playful. Light violence, multiple threats of violence. Clear examples of bullying. 
> 
> Prompt:  
> "Stiles brings someone else to a party. Jackson & Stiles have a history, and when Jackson sees Stiles with someone else, he gets very jealous. Sex ensues."  
> The original aim of this fic was to be 1k words.  
> Hahahaha.


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